


Shippers of SHIELD

by prosopopeya



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, M/M, Multi, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 17:45:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2859500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosopopeya/pseuds/prosopopeya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles written as ask meme prompt fills from tumblr. Some fluff, some sad, some in between!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bobbi/Simmons: "It wasn't supposed to happen like that."

"Ah... Oh dear." 

The cloud of white powder dies down enough that Jemma can see again, which means she can also see Bobbi, her nose smudged with residue and a smile on her face, even if she's squinting down at her rather skeptically. 

"I checked all the variables, tested the components -- it's behaved normally in every other test I've subjected it to so far. I thought it would -- " 

She glances up again, and now Bobbi is swiping the back of her hand across her cheek, and she raises one eyebrow at Jemma. Right. This isn't the time for the scientific explanation for why, exactly, the experiment that Jemma had pulled Bobbi into observing with her had instead ended with a minor, but still messy explosion of a non-toxic flour-like substance around their workspace. 

"It wasn't supposed to happen like that," Jemma says instead, and she looks back at the workbench, the light dusting of powder on the beakers and papers that had been near the blast radius. 

"I figured." 

Bobbi, at least, sounds amused, and Jemma only spares her a half-smile of embarrassed apology. And then, quite suddenly, Bobbi's knuckles are swiping down her cheek. That does call for Jemma's attention, and she turns her gaze back to her, trying to analyze the touch, wondering if she even should, and wishing she could blame the quickening of her heartbeat on the failed experiment. 

"Do you want to go over your notes together? Maybe we could figure out what went wrong." Bobbi's reaching for Jemma's tablet, as if their skin wasn't just touching, and Jemma blinks a few times, rapidly, in trying to keep up. 

"I -- Yes. Thank you." Normally, she would bristle at least a little bit at someone stepping into her territory, but this is Bobbi's territory too, actually. Part of the reason Jemma dragged her in here in the first place was to talk biochemistry with her, maybe even to needle her about helping out with the science side of their missions a little more often. 

Anyway, she's not quite thinking properly at the moment, and she gives her head a little shake to bring herself back into the moment. She shouldn't be focusing on the smudge of dust on Bobbi's nose, or the way it's powdered her hair in places, how it's speckled on the skin above the collar of her shirt. 

"Actually, no." She's frowning, more in thought than anything. Bobbi's frowning, in confusion, Jemma thinks. 

"No? Jemma, it's not a big deal. We can -- " 

"No." She shakes her head, takes a half-step forward, then stops herself. She's wearing her look of determination, and Bobbi's waiting for her to explain. That should be easier than it feels, presently. She opens her mouth, but finishes the step forward before she says anything. 

"I would rather kiss you instead." 

She allows Bobbi a moment to react before she continues. 

"You are free to say no, of course, without our friendship becoming awkward. I'm a big girl, and I value your friendship more than that." And she is not Hunter -- Jemma thinks that's an important distinction to make. 

"I'm going to have to be honest with you, Jemma. I did not think you were going to go there." 

As much as Jemma means what she says -- that she can just as easily be Bobbi's friend without kissing as she can be her friend _with_ kissing -- she knows which outcome she prefers, in this moment, and she might be holding her breath as she waits for the answer. 

Bobbi licks her lips, and her hair falls across her neck as she tilts her head, and her gaze moves over Jemma's face, lingering on her mouth, before she breaks into a smile. 

"I thought I was going to make the first move." 

Jemma puffs a laugh -- everyone always underestimates her -- but before she can form her reply, Bobbi is there, leaning in. Her hair brushes Jemma's shoulder, and her hand presses in against her back, and then their lips meet. 

The kiss happens just how she had hoped it would.


	2. Skye/Simmons: "You don't need to protect me."

It's a tense ride back to their headquarters, and Jemma is tempted to stalk off and leave things as they are; she doesn't really want to have a fight with Skye, not over this. Skye follows after her, though, and Jemma realizes that she can't hold it back. 

"Jemma, can you please look at me?" 

She rounds on Skye, her jaw set. It's hard for her to pin down specific reasons for why she's angry; Skye was doing her job, sort of, but she let her feelings get in the way. Normally that isn't a bad thing, but when it gets in the way of them completing their mission? That isn't acceptable. 

"You jeopardized the mission, Skye." 

" _You_ were in jeopardy, Jemma." 

"You don't need to protect me!" She doesn't mean to yell, but it comes out anyway. "I was sent out into the field for a reason; I was undercover at _HYDRA!_ I don't need you to sacrifice your… to sacrifice the mission in order to keep me safe." 

Almost saying that she doesn't need Skye to sacrifice herself takes the wind out of Jemma's sails a bit, and she thinks Skye catches on the minute that she does. This isn't really about Skye and Jemma, not exactly; it's about Jemma and Fitz, about what Fitz pushed Jemma into without any warning, about what Jemma survived and Fitz survived but the two of them as a unit didn't seem to survive. 

"Jemma," Skye murmurs, her shoulders slumping. 

She can feel the pressure behind her eyes, and she sniffs, turning her face away, but Skye's there almost immediately, her hands on her arms, and then she pulls Jemma in. Skye hugs like she does everything else -- wholeheartedly, without hesitation, without any uncertainty -- and Jemma eases herself into it. 

"I'd do anything to go back in time and push Trip out of that chamber," she whispers into her hair, and then Jemma's afraid she really will start to cry, but she knows why Skye's bringing it up. She knows how Trip's death haunts Skye, how powerless she'd felt, how senseless it all was. 

She needs this hug to last, so she doesn't pull out of it and doesn't speak, instead waiting until the tears are under control again. And Skye lets her, just waits, her hand occasionally stroking over Jemma's hair, hand moving slowly and gently over her back. 

"Promise me," Jemma finally says, and she pulls back, holding Skye away from her. "Promise me that you won't sacrifice yourself for me. Please don't make me responsible for something terrible happening to you." 

Though Jemma got her tears under control, she's afraid she might've broken whatever control Skye had. Skye cups her face, but she nods, however unsteadily. 

"I promise I'll try not to treat you any differently than I would anyone else." Really, that seems to be the most they could realistically promise each other. "If it comes down to you or me, we'll draw straws." 

Jemma's smile is watery, and she pulls Skye in until their foreheads are touching. 

"I'd rather use the straws to find a way to save us both." 

Skye laughs, sort of, and Jemma smiles, sort of, and then they definitely kiss.


	3. Fitz/Mack: "You don't need to protect me."

"Mack." Fitz isn't even through the door yet, and his eyes are on the clipboard in front of him, but he knows that Mack is in here. This is their garage, the one they work in together, and Mack's presence here is as comforting as it is constant. Fitz has more or less come to expect to find him in here every time he steps in. 

"I wanted to... to go over the -- the specs for the -- " Fitz drops his hand from his hair and stops talking, going still, and it isn't because he lost what he wanted to say. He knows exactly what he wanted to say; they have to go over the plane's shields again, and Fitz wants to add some upgrades, though he wants a second opinion from Mack on some of the adjustments he'd like to make. Fitz has all of that, more or less, in his head and ready to come out of his mouth, so it's not his brain that's stopping his words. 

Mack is talking to Bobbi. Ordinarily, that's not a problem. The problem is that they stop talking abruptly when Fitz walks in the room, they both send him a furtive look, and Mack almost looks guilty for a split second before they both fix their expressions, make themselves look neutral and calm like any good SHIELD agent ought to be able to do to keep their cover. 

It feels like betrayal. 

Fitz's mouth parts, and he isn't sure if he ought to say something, and then Mack gestures at him. 

"The specs for the what, Turbo?" He stands up from where he was leaning on the table, and he reaches for a rag to wipe his hands as if he'd been working and not standing there talking to Bobbi. 

"Thanks, Mack. I think that helps. I'll talk to you later, okay?" Bobbi gives him a smile, and Fitz one too, a bright thing that Fitz doesn't trust, before she moves out of the room and returns the garage to Fitz and Mack, as it ought to be. 

"For the shields. I -- I added some specifics, some specifications. What were you talking about? With Bobbi?" He's still standing in the doorway, the clipboard in his hands, and he's waiting for Mack to say something about how the team is going out somewhere and leaving Fitz behind, or how are they going to break it to Fitz that he can't help out on this mission, or how he isn't doing as well as everyone had hoped he would be by now. 

"Aw, you know her and Hunter. There's always some sort of drama going on." Mack tosses the rag over his shoulder, his smile warm and friendly, and he tilts his head at him. 

That does sound plausible. Not everything has to be about him, but it's hard not to react that way to whispered conversations that stop when he enters the room. He shifts his weight, and Mack's smile turns even softer. 

"I promise. It was just a private thing between us." 

Well. Maybe. Fitz gives a hesitant nod, and then he tries to put the incident behind him as he comes forward with the clipboard, shoving it at Mack and talking again about calibrations and adjustments. 

*** * ***

This time, it's the lunch room, and it's Mack and Skye. Their posture is easy, relaxed, and Skye's even wearing a faint smile, but it does something strange when Fitz enters the room, and Mack sits up, leans back, drapes his arm over the back of the chair, as if he hadn't been leaning into her for whatever they were talking about. 

"Hey, Fitz." There's something about Skye's tone that sounds unusual. Fitz doesn't think she likes it, or the way she cuts her eyes at Mack for a half second. 

"There's Thai. You want some? Plenty left over." Skye nods at the takeout containers on the counter, but Fitz is watching Mack, the way Mack isn't quite looking at Fitz for a few seconds before he manages to make eye contact. 

"No thanks. Brought my own." Fitz grabs his food out of the fridge and leaves quickly, before either of them can say anything else to him. Or maybe they do say something; he's not sure, and he doesn't want to hear whatever it is because Fitz can't shake the feeling that something bad is happening. Something is going on that Mack doesn't want him to know about. _Mack_. 

*** * ***

"I'm not sure I could answer that anymore. It isn't like Fitz and I are what we used to be." Jemma is saying from inside the lab, and Fitz pauses just outside the door, out of sight, even though he knows this is juvenile. He also knows he may not want to hear whatever it is that she's saying, but he finds he can't really move his limbs anymore, either. He's locked in. 

"I was just wondering if you knew how he normally reacts to this kind of thing. If he's even open to it." _That's Mack_. 

There's an uncomfortable pause -- even if he and Jemma aren't what they were, he knows what her uncomfortable pauses sound like, perhaps now even more than ever -- and then Jemma starts speaking again. 

"I think you should be honest with him." She sounds hushed, maybe a little regretful, and Fitz's fingers tighten around the clipboard. "With something like this, I think it's best not to let things go unsaid, not to rely on implication. How he'll take it... Like I said, I don't know. You seem to know how to handle him better than I do, now." 

"That's the thing. I don't handle him; I just talk to him." 

"Fitz?" 

He starts, nearly drops the clipboard, because that voice isn't coming from inside. It's coming from right across from him, and Coulson is standing there, looking like he caught Fitz... well, doing just what he was doing. Coulson raises his eyebrows and then looks up at the doorframe and back down again. 

"Is there a force field I should know about making it impossible to enter the room?" 

"No, sir," Fitz mumbles, ducking his head. 

"Good. I think we were going to be debriefed?" 

Fitz nods and follows after him, his head still lowered, at least until he doesn't feel like Coulson's still scolding him. Then he looks up to see how Mack and Jemma are taking this, the guilty looks in their eyes. There might be an apology on Jemma's face, but there usually is these days, and Fitz doesn't want to hear it. 

"Hello, Mack. Simmons." Quietly and efficiently, he sets up the screens to take them through the debriefing he called them in here for. He mainly speaks to Coulson. 

*** * ***

"There you are." 

It's late and Fitz is still in the garage, but he's been avoiding it. It's easier not to interrupt conversations about him when he steers clear of spaces where people might be talking about him. People like Mack, for example. 

"I have a lot of work to do," he says, his focus on the machine in his hands. 

"I'll bet. Haven't seen you here all day." 

Fitz doesn't respond. His ears tell him Mack comes into the room, but it doesn't matter, it really doesn't. He doesn't care. 

"I'm sorry you overheard that." 

"But not sorry you were talking about me." Now Fitz looks up, sharp and accusing, and Mack's shoulders sink. 

"Fitz, I promise you. It's nothing bad." 

"Yeah, well, if it's not that bad, then why can't you say it to my face? Why are you going to -- to Simmons and Skye and Bobbi? You -- You don't have to _protect_ me, Mack. I thought you knew that. You of _all people_ , I thought you -- you -- " 

Fitz loses the words and he's struggling for them, one hand grasping at the air while the other one is still clutching the machine, but he may lose his grip at any moment, since he's not concentrating on making sure his fingers still work like fingers. No, he's looking to Mack, his eyes round, frustrated he can't come up with the word when he's angry and frustrated to know that it's being angry that makes it hard to come up with the word. And Mack's just waiting, patient, unconcerned. 

"I thought you knew better!" he shouts finally, and it feels like he's tearing it out of him, not just because he was struggling for the words. "I thought you knew that. About me." 

It's been such a relief to have someone who can give Fitz what he wants and needs, who can make him feel comfortable in his own skin, in his own mind, even when both are rebelling against him, but it seems like he was wrong. 

Mack sighs and shakes his head, coming closer now. 

"That's not it at all. I'm not protecting you from anything." 

"You were talking with _Jemma_. And Bobbi and Skye. You won't say it to me! Just say it to me!" 

Fitz is waiting to hear it. He can't work in the metal shop anymore; he can't go on some mission, even though it's perfectly within his skillset, just no one else believes that. Mack doesn't want him in the garage anymore because Fitz gets in the way. 

"I want to take you out." 

"You want to take me out?" Fitz repeats, and Mack looks maybe even more worried, like he was hoping for him to say something else. 

"Yeah, I do." 

Now, though, Fitz is just confused. 

"You... want to kill me?" 

Mack laughs, rolls his eyes, tension bleeding out of him. 

"No, man, no. I want to take you out on a _date_. Whisk you off to dinner sometime, wine and dine you a little, long walks on the beach. The whole shebang." 

Oh. 

Somehow, that's even more confusing than Mack wanting to kill him, and it's definitely not at all what he'd been expecting. 

"Jemma... Skye..." 

"I wanted some advice. Don't even know if you're not straight, or if this is the kind of thing you're interested in." 

"I'm not," Fitz blurts, and Mack frowns. 

"Oh. Oh, well. That's okay, man. No big deal." 

"No, no. I mean I'm not..." His mouth stays open, but his words lag, and Mack doesn't fill in the word even though he desperately wishes he would because he doesn't want to leave his sentence hanging for this long. "Straight! I'm not straight. I like dates." 

He thinks. He hasn't been on one in a long time. 

Mack breaks into a slow smile, lets it settle for a few moments, and then he leans in with a wink. 

"I like _you_ , Turbo." 

Fitz thinks that he's starting to blush, and then Mack touches his cheek, quick and fond, and he nods his head at the worktable. 

"Come on. I'll help you catch up. Want to make sure you can block out time for tomorrow at 8." 

He grins, and Fitz smiles, still blushing, but he nods and gets back to work, content to let them fall into companionable silence.


	4. Skye/Simmons: "Can I kiss you?"

"Oh my God! Simmons!" 

Most of the others are gone on a mission, and May and Koenig are busy with some sort of business that Coulson left for them. Skye and Jemma, however, have nothing pressing -- oh, some little things, but she thinks that Coulson wanted to give them both a little time off, since Puerto Rico. She thinks that he wanted them to take some time for themselves, and so Jemma is taking advantage of that. 

She's turned the kitchen on the Bus into a small forest of candles -- well, LED lights that she's fed into graduated cylinders. Somehow, those were easier for her to find on short notice than actual candles. When Skye notices, she laughs, reaching out to touch one, though only the tips of her fingertips brush the glass. 

"What smells so good?" 

"Oh. I prepared some essential oils." She points to where they're being heated by a hot plate, and though she's very proud of her setup, she finds herself blushing and tucking her hair behind her ear when Skye turns around to grin at her. 

"This is incredible. What made you think of all this?" 

"I thought we could have a girls' night in. We both could stand to relax, I think." 

There's a lot more behind her words; they're both grieving Trip, and Skye is adjusting to everything she's learned about herself, everything that she's become in such a short amount of time. Neither of them has had very much time to breathe basically since HYDRA revealed itself. If it's one thing that Jemma's missed, it's the downtime they'd had in the Bus -- all of them, together, when they were learning how much they all meant to one another. 

It seems that Skye's thinking the same thing, if the way her smile darkens. She looks away, taking in the room, the takeout that Jemma got for them. The Bus is silent; Jemma never thought she'd miss the thing this much, but she has. Being on solid ground has been a disappointment after spending so much time in the air. 

"Thank you." She blinks the emotion away, and she forces a smile, as if trying to push the moment into something lighter. "I could kiss you right now." 

She follows that up with a light laugh, and it stills Jemma, draws her focus to Skye who isn't even looking at her, instead watching the lights twinkle. It's the wrong time for this, the wrong place, and Skye likely wouldn't even be interested, but -- _but_. Can she really let herself have these thoughts, think these things, and keep Skye in the dark? Would that be fair to her, when Jemma knows what it feels like? 

"You could." She says it quickly, and then holds her breath for Skye to turn back to her, frowning. 

"What?" 

"Kiss me. You could kiss me, if you really wanted." 

Skye shifts, still not understanding Jemma, or maybe she's not sure she wants to understand -- either way, Jemma isn't feeling particularly worried. Actually, she's relieved. They can deal with this now, whatever the outcome, and still be friends in the end, no matter what. That much she is sure of. 

"What are you -- ?" 

"I would like to kiss you. I certainly don't have to, but I'm just saying -- it's an option. " She smiles and then leaves it there, waits for Skye to fully process, for her eyes to widen, for her to look away. Jemma can almost hear everything she says before she says it. 

"Wow. Jemma Simmons. You really are full of surprises." She pauses, her brow furrowing, and she points her finger up, indicating the room. "Was all this -- are you trying to _seduce_ me?" 

"Oh! No, no. I really did mean for us to have a nice dinner, with the frills we don't really get to have anymore. I wanted to do something nice for us both. You mentioned kissing, though, and I... Well, I wanted to be upfront with you." She nods, a short one, though now she's not looking at Skye. 

They had a talk about what happened, down there with Fitz, about what's broken between them. She's sure that Skye doesn't miss her meaning. When she can finally meet her gaze again, Skye's smiling again, that soft, sad one she had earlier, and she reaches out to squeeze her arm. If Jemma were to make a guess, she would say that it felt like an easy letdown, and that would be okay -- it really would. It warms her to know how much it would be okay, how they could carry on, together. 

She's waiting for Skye to say something, and maybe Skye is waiting for the words to come, too, but instead she steps in and kisses Jemma. It's gentle, soft, though not hesitant. When is Skye ever hesitant? Her thumb rubs back and forth across Jemma's arm, and instead of drawing away, she lets Jemma deepen the kiss, her hand framing her face, fingers toying with the ends of her hair. 

They pull back and exhale together, half-smiling to each other, and Skye puts their foreheads together, noses brushing. 

"Thank you. For being honest," Skye says as she pulls away, and Jemma can't quite tell if that's going to be that -- if she gave Jemma her kiss, but that things will remain as they are. Skye seems that kind of person. 

And then Skye links their fingers together, and she pauses, then grins and lifts Jemma's knuckles, kisses the backs of them. 

"Come on. I don't want to put off the grand seduction any longer." 

Jemma laughs and makes a show of rolling her eyes, even as the color rises in her cheeks. But Skye's leading her to the table, and Jemma is all too happy to follow.


End file.
